Dawn of Valor

by Lindsay McKenna

  Rachel placed the bouquet in her lap, nervously touching the flowers. “You’re incorrigible, Chase.”

  “Maybe.” He studied her for a moment, his smile slipping. “How have you been?”

  “Working hard as usual. You?”

  “More missions than I’d like. Hob wants the squadrons flying twenty-four hours a day, softening up the enemy while the weather holds. I understand winters are hell over here.”

  “We’re already preparing for frostbite cases when it decides to turn ugly around here,” Rachel agreed quietly. The war was never far from them. Ever. Rachel gently cupped some of the flowers, inhaling the scent. “These remind me of life, not death.”

  “That’s why I picked them. You remind me of the good things life holds. When I think of you, I can put the not-so-good things into perspective.” Chase ached to reach out and slide his fingers through Rachel’s loose, silky black hair when she leaned over to smell the flowers. His throat constricted as he mentally rehearsed what he was going to say to her.

  “Uh…listen, I need to talk with you, Rachel.” Chase dove on when she lifted her head, her eyes filled with incredible warmth. “We got off on the wrong foot with each other when we met. I mean, I wasn’t behaving properly, like a gentleman would to a lady.” He swallowed hard. “And you are a lady, believe me,” he added huskily.

  Rachel sat very still.

  “I was out of my head,” Chase continued, hoping she would pin his actions on his concussion. But the truth was, he’d wanted her. All of her. He still did. Just being this close to Rachel, smelling the special fragrance that was only her, was driving him crazy. He clasped his hands, staring down at them, trying to rearrange his scattered thoughts. “I don’t know what happened between us after we made love. Looking back, I guess we can chalk it up to the stress we were under.”

  Rachel glanced at him sharply. “Stress or not, Chase, you were continually trying to get me in your arms.”

  He shrugged. “Guilty as charged. But, dammit, that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy making love to you. I did.”

  Flushing, Rachel was unable to hold his pleading stare. “That’s not the issue, Chase, and you know it.”

  Mouth tightening, he muttered, “Then I wish you’d tell me what is. I’ve been going crazy for the past month. I’ve tried to look at what happened to us from all angles. I don’t see how you can be sorry it happened. It was good for both of us.”

  “That’s just it, Chase. For you men, it’s a one-shot deal. Stalk the woman, capture her, then let her go after you’ve bedded her down. Nothing asked, nothing received. No responsibility or emotional ties exchanged. Men have the privilege of loving and leaving. We’re under a double standard, Chase.” Rachel held his gaze, now marred with confusion. “I was supposed to save myself for marriage, for the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with—” She turned away, her voice choked. “And I threw it away because I was scared and wanting to be held for just a little while.”

  Clasping his hands between his legs, Chase released a long sigh, hearing the pain in her voice. “I did take something that didn’t belong to me,” he whispered. “For that, I’m sorry. You’re right, Rachel, men get away with murder, and women are held accountable. But I’m trying to make myself responsible for what we shared. I’m here, with you. I want—”

  “A man can divorce a woman, but a woman risks a lot more if she dares to divorce her husband.”

  Chase nodded, feeling the terrible reality of what he’d done in stalking and taking Rachel. “Isn’t there something I can do or say to make it right between us?” He twisted a look up at her. Rachel’s features expressed the same sadness he felt.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Chase.”

  “Well, if I could?” God, how he wanted another chance with her. “Listen, when I loved you, it was you, not another woman in my head or heart. Having you in my arms was heaven, and that’s not a line.” And then Chase added grimly, “Or a lie.”

  A terrible ache wrenched her. The conversation was so painful to both of them. “Chase, I never said it was.”

  He heartened. “If I had it to do all over again, it would be different—better, for you, Rachel.”

  “No,” she whispered, getting up, moving away from him. “It won’t happen again.”

  Frustration thrummed through Chase. He scrambled to try to save the deteriorating situation. “We got in a terrible argument with each other at the Aussie camp. I—that was my fault.” His brows dipped and he tried to remember the next memorized line that he’d written four days ago. “You were right. I was treating you like a girl, not a woman. And—I had no business telling you to go home to the states.”

  “What about the rest of the conversation, Chase?” she asked gently, suffering along with him, because she knew he was a proud man and it was tough for him to admit he was wrong.

  “What other stuff?” Chase lifted his head, cradled by her soft green gaze.

  “About putting me under a general category where women do this, but don’t do that.”

  “Oh…” He cleared his throat a couple of times, nodding his head vigorously. “I’ve given that a lot of thought, too.”

  “It appears you have.”

  “Yes…I decided you’re different from most women, and I shouldn’t try to corral you into what most other women do or want out of life.”

  Rachel wanted to reach over and caress his sweaty cheek. Chase was struggling beneath all these weighty admissions. Were they lies to convince her back into his arms? She didn’t know, feeling serrated. “Chase, more than anything, I want to be married someday and have two or three children. I love the idea of sharing my life with someone, of carrying his child and feeling that life within me. That’s part of being a woman, not just what society expects of me. There is a difference. I’ve always rebelled against being looked at as nothing more than a brood mare. Life consists of so much more than that. I decided at a very early age that I deserved to live the way I wanted to and be myself.”

  He gulped once, holding her gaze. “I understand that—I think,” he said. “You do want to get married and have kids, then?”

  Her smile was tentative. “As a woman, I want the right to do what I feel is best for me, not what some man decides I should do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want a husband and family someday.”

  She was right, Chase realized humbly. He read so much in her eyes, fighting every desire to drag her into his arms and kiss her until she melted with passion. His thoughts were completely scattered, his memorized script erased under her quietly spoken admission. He had visions of her decidedly pregnant, carrying his child. The thought was galvanizing.

  Dipping his head, Chase had to break eye contact with Rachel or do something they’d both regret—àin. Did she know the beauty of making slow, passionate love in a field like this, getting back in touch with the earth and with all that was alive and beautiful? Damn, thinking was tough around her! All he wanted to do was feel the wealth of emotions Rachel aroused within him. “Look,” he began, his voice low, “I want the right to know you better, Rachel. I know I acted like a cad before, but I want to make up for it, to prove to you that I’m not a groper. There’s something we share. I can’t put it into words, I can only feel it.” Chase closed his eyes, waiting for her to say no.

  “When you left, I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

  Jerking his chin to the left, Chase said, “That isn’t true, Rachel. On board the chopper, I realized I didn’t know what unit you’d been assigned to.” He shoved his fingers through his hair in aggravation. “You don’t know how many times I was in the radio shack bugging the operators to make just one more call to one of the many MASH units in Korea.” His eyes narrowed. “Every spare minute between missions, I was over there ordering those guys to put in calls, trying to locate you. I wanted to apologize, to start over, if you’d give me the chance.”

  “Oh, Chase…”

  He managed a grimace. “I nev
er stopped looking for you, Rachel. After cooling down, I realized I was wrong—about everything. You’re your own woman. I didn’t want to deal with that aspect of you. All the women I’ve known have been passive in comparison to you.”

  “I think if you’d stop lumping women under one label, you might find out there are quite a few like me.”

  Bashfully he smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. You were right about which direction was south, too.”

  Rachel managed a thin smile. “You’re too much, Chase. All these admissions in one day must be killing that proud fly-boy ego of yours.”

  “They are,” he groused good-naturedly, grinning. She was so incredibly beautiful when she smiled. It was the first time he’d seen Rachel’s lips move upward since seeing him again. His gloom dissolved. Chase wanted her more than ever—to see her laugh in his arms, to see her smile after making love.

  Reaching down, he picked a blue flower from the field. “You’re like this wildflower,” he told her, “tough and resilient in ways a hothouse variety isn’t. You’re one of a kind, woman.”

  Sobering, Rachel stared at the flower he held. Chase possessed a large hand with long, strong fingers. A shiver of need wove through her at the memory of those fingers igniting fire within her, giving her unbelievable pleasure. The wind caressed the flower, bending it under the breeze’s gentle bidding.

  “We’re all unique, Chase. Even though you’re a man, I try not to make general assumptions about you,” Rachel said, holding his gaze.

  “I proved the groper stereotype.”

  Her eyes crinkled. “Yes.”

  “I couldn’t help it, Rachel. I was out of my head.”

  “Chase.”

  “Well, maybe not completely out of my head. But Rachel, you’re a beautiful lady. I like everything about you.”

  “Everything?”

  He smiled, noting the seriousness in her voice. He handed her the blue flower to add to the bouquet in her lap. “Everything,” he growled.

  “Rachel?” Dr. Davis cocked his head, holding out his hand expectantly for the next instrument.

  “Oh!” She handed him the needle and thread, embarrassed. Her thoughts weren’t on the injured soldier who had come in earlier. No, they were on Chase. Where had the days gone? It had been nearly two weeks since she’d last seen him in that field of flowers.

  Davis grinned, completing the job. “He’s all yours, Miss McKenzie.”

  Trying to make up for her lapse in attentiveness, Rachel nodded. She quickly dressed the soldier’s wound, a small cut on the arm, and released him back to his unit. Davis remained in the background, washing his hands in a basin.

  “This is unusual behavior for you,” he told her when she came over to wash her hands.

  “I’m sorry, Brad, I should have been concentrating more.”

  A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I understand from Annie you’re sweet on some fly-boy captain over at Taegu. Trayhern his name? Annie said he called over here half an hour ago and is coming to visit.”

  Heat prickled her cheeks. Rachel was going to strangle Annie. Scrubbing her fingers, she muttered, “It’s not what you think, Doctor. Captain Trayhern called and said he needed some medical help. Now, I don’t call that a hot date, do you?”

  Chuckling, Davis picked up a towel, drying his hands and then passing it over to Rachel. “Not exactly. Still, you’re sweet on him, aren’t you?”

  Rachel tossed the towel into a nearby receptacle. “No…” she answered softly.

  Davis studied her critically. “I think Annie’s right: You like him, but won’t admit it. I’ve got to give this captain credit, he’s creative about finding ways to come calling.”

  Rolling her eyes, Rachel groaned. “I’m leaving! I’ve got half an hour before making rounds in recovery, Doctor.” Crossing between tents, the mid-October wind tugged at her fatigues. The wind was sharper than usual today, promising a bitter winter ahead. Her mind and heart lingered on Chase. What was wrong? Did he really need medical help? Or was it a ruse? Worriedly she walked the well-trodden dirt path toward recovery.

  A jeep pulled into view, and she saw Chase in the passenger seat. The driver was a young man with dark, curly hair. Her pulse leaped erratically as the vehicle ground to a stop in front of her, a cloud of dust following in its wake.

  Chase smiled, thinking how pretty Rachel looked in her wrinkled fatigues. Nothing could hide her slender body from him. “Hey, I’ve got a patient for you.” He climbed out, holding his leather jacket closed with his large hand.

  Rachel smiled up at him, despite the nervousness she felt. She pointed toward admissions. The leather jacket was bulging with something inside it. Rachel gave him a curious look, but didn’t ask what he was hiding inside its folds. “Sure. Come this way.”

  Chase fell into step beside Rachel, unable to tear his gaze from her. The wind played with her hair, and he longed to tunnel his fingers through those tresses himself. “How have you been? I haven’t been able to get the time off I expected. Hob’s turning up the heat on bombing missions to the north.”

  When Chase had left two weeks ago, Rachel had told him not to come back—that there was nothing left to explore between them. Now, inexplicably, Rachel was happy he was here. “I’ve been kept busy,” Rachel admitted. She halted, opening the door into the large, roomy tent. “Come in.”

  Chase walked over to a wooden table and opened up his jacket. “This little guy came around my tent this morning.”

  Rachel stood on the opposite side, her eyes large with surprise. “It’s a puppy!” Automatically she reached for the small animal. To her dismay, the dog was starved, his ribs sticking out pitifully from beneath his matted brown fur.

  “I call him Fred,” Chase offered, watching how carefully and lovingly Rachel held the puppy. Fred promptly whined and started licking her hand with an eagerness that made Chase wish it was him instead in her hands. “I heard whining outside my tent. He was sitting there looking like hell. I gave him some of my C rations, but he threw them up.”

  “Poor baby,” she whispered, gently stroking Fred. Examining his floppy ears, she saw that mites infested them. “He’s starved, Chase. Look at his eyes, they’re almost matted shut because of malnutrition.” She ran her hands down his accordianlike rib cage, her heart breaking. “And he’s got mange.” Fred’s skin was ulcerated and flaking beneath her fingers.

  “Will he make it?” Chase asked. The tenderness in Rachel’s voice unstrung Chase. Would she ever respond to him like that? Time, he cautioned himself, and patience. Since their day in the meadow, he thought he saw a slight change in her. Nothing dramatic, but hopeful. Chase hadn’t tried to kiss Rachel. It was as if she’d been waiting for him to start groping again, and he hadn’t. This time, he saw trust in her eyes instead of wariness.

  She placed Fred back in Chase’s hands. “Hold on to him. I’m going to give him a B-12 shot and treat him just as I’d treat a malnourished villager.” She went to the cabinet, pulled out a hypodermic needle and a vial containing the vitamin essence. Rachel stole a look at Chase’s serious features. He looked tired and that worried her. Moving back to the table, she prepared the shot.

  “How are you doing?”

  Shrugging, Chase muttered, “The usual. Hob’s short on aircraft, so we’re flying double missions.”

  Rachel met and held his gaze. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. Maybe you need a B-12 shot, too.”

  He gave an adamant shake of his head. “Lady, those shots sting like hell! I’m fine, just a little short on sleep is all.” Placing Fred on the table, he held the puppy still for Rachel.

  As carefully as possible, she administered the shot to Fred’s hindquarters. The puppy whined once, his brown eyes huge. Rachel patted him, murmuring affectionate praise. The puppy eagerly licked her hand.

  “He’s going to get a bath. Do you have time to hang around and help, or do you have to get back right away?” Rachel would need help. Chase looked vulnerable
as he picked up the puppy and pressed it against his chest.

  “I can stay for a little while. Hob knows I’m on a mission of the utmost mercy.”

  Smiling, Rachel led him behind another set of doors and into an area that contained two sinks and bathing facilities. She filled one sink with soap and water, the other with rinse water. She took Fred and carefully introduced him to the soapy water. The puppy happily stood in the basin, continuing to wag his long, thin tail. Chase came over, leaning against the sink, inches from Rachel. Hungrily he drank in her intent features. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured, meaning it. When she raised an eyebrow, he added, “Now, that’s not being a groper, is it? Can’t I admit I like seeing you, talking with you?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks, and Rachel smiled, gently washing Fred with a soft brush. “It’s nice to get a compliment,” she admitted.

  “Whew!”

  She laughed.

  “What do you consider groping, then?” Chase pressed.

  Rachel slanted an amused look in his direction. She laid down the brush and took a comb, beginning to unknot huge hunks of hair hanging on Fred’s dull coat. “What you did when we were behind enemy lines.”

  He sighed dramatically, noticing that they were alone. Crossing his arms, Chase watched her work for several minutes before speaking again. No wonder the men loved having Rachel for a nurse. Her touch was exquisitely gentle. He’d never forgotten the feel of her lovely hands running across his body. Fred was sitting in the hock-deep water, obviously enjoying her attention and ministrations. Suddenly Chase felt jealous of the dog. “Do you consider a kiss groping?”

  “Well…” Rachel stammered. She looked up, drowning in the brilliant blue of his eyes. His mouth was incredibly strong and beautifully molded. Remembering the persuasive power of his mouth against her lips, she sighed, her feelings in turmoil.

  “Great!”

  Rachel gave him a warning look that spoke volumes. She lifted Fred out of the sink and transferred him to the rinse basin.